


A Captain and Two Very Drunk Lighteyes

by she_is_rysn



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Multi, the poly triangle we deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_is_rysn/pseuds/she_is_rysn
Summary: After spending a very enjoyable day together, our favorite poly ship goes for a drink in Little Herdaz. Inspired and encouraged by @jasnah-kholin on tumblr's very cute sketch of the same title, the last bit of this story is that picture.
Relationships: Shallan Davar/Kaladin/Adolin Kholin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. The Tipsy Cousin

**Author's Note:**

> A little environmental context since i'm pulling liberally from my own AU here:
> 
> Ganchita's is a chouta stall in Little Herdaz that sells the equivalent of cheap frozen margaritas.
> 
> The Tipsy Cousin is a fancy-pants bar in Little Herdaz where people go to impress dates and celebrate special occasions. It's owned by a woman named Laia Telin.

Shallan | Kaladin | Adolin

Shallan waved to Laia Telin as she entered the Tipsy Cousin, flanked by Adolin and Kaladin. Three stools magically cleared up at the center of the polished bar, almost as if, well, as if a highprince and two Radiants had walked into the establishment. 

Shallan gave an excited squeeze of Kaladin’s arm, draped in luxurious violet silk from Adolin’s closet (for various reasons, Shallan and Kaladin’s clothes were no longer suitable to be worn, a fact they determined in Adolin’s room). For Shallan, Adolin had tied and fastened an oversized sky-blue tunic into a kind of wrap, finishing the ensemble with a pair of clay-colored trousers in an out-of-style short cut that still grazed the floor on Shallan. She felt a little ridiculous dressed so unconventionally, but it was also novel to be swathed in fabric like this, unrestrained by the undergarments she’d conveniently left behind. Shallan enjoyed the way Adolin made his clothes appear soft-edged and feminine on her frame, even pinning her safehand modestly within a too-long sleeve. He really did have a talent. 

As Adolin stepped forward to exchange pleasantries with the tavern’s proprietress, Shallan felt Kaladin hesitate beside her, eyes darting distrustfully around the room. 

“There’s probably assassins here, and you’re probably _not_ their target,” Shallan rolled her eyes as she dragged him to their seats. 

“Why would you say that?” Kaladin acted confused, but couldn’t help glancing at the door one last time.

“Because you’re thinking it and I’m right,” she replied matter-of-factly. 

“Besides,” she continued, “no one will recognize you out of uniform AND you’re with the best fighter and the cleverest Radiant in town. We’ll protect you.” she hopped onto the middle stool, exchanging another smile with Laia. Adolin’s hand found the small of her back as he continued his chatter. This made Shallan want to purr, but she managed not to actually do so. 

“Now, I’m going to buy you a drink and you’re going to drink it,” she announced to Kaladin. “After you kiss me on the mouth.”

Shallan felt herself blush at the final demand - they had refrained from displays of affection so far this evening, but the horrible orange wine cocktails at Ganchita’s had loosened her inhibitions just enough. It had been nigh on hours. She wanted kisses now. 

“What are we talking about?” Adolin’s voice appeared close in her ear, and Shallan felt his breath graze across her cheek, barely making out Laia’s soft chuckle as she turned to another patron. Kaladin was looking startled and flustered, which made Shallan even more eager. 

“I heard something about kisses,” Adolin said. “And I want in.”

******

The bartender fixed a knowing glance on Kaladin, which didn’t make him feel any more at ease. 

Adolin’s clothes were too soft, too thin and too snug on him, hugging in places he could appreciate on Adolin but not himself. He felt too...pretty. Kaladin had caught a few people checking him out as they made their way through little Herdaz, which was mortifying for all parties involved, once they realized who they were ogling. Not to mention, this kind of attention was _risky_. Shallan and Adolin were incapable of understanding that Kaladin still felt his safety was conferred by his title, that without a uniform he was just another darkeyed man dressing above his station. At any moment, any tenner with an attitude could cause more trouble than Kaladin was interested in. 

Of course, it wasn’t really that way anymore. Kaladin had a glowing weapon and eyes to prove he was worth treating like a human being, but that didn’t make him feel much better. 

His compatriots were staring at him, faces smushed side-by-side with matching idiot grins as Adolin craned his neck over Shallan’s shoulder. 

“I - _we_ \- haven’t kissed you in _hours_ , Kaladin,” Shallan sulked, both of them making stupid pouty faces. 

“It’s been excruciating,” Adolin sighed dramatically as the bartender filled their glasses, causing Shallan to blush perceptibly. “Do you even understand how fantastic you look tonight? I’ll never be able to wear that outfit again after seeing you in it.”

“I don’t think he does understand,” Shallan shook her head in mock regret, turning to claim the glass of auburn before her. “It shouldn’t be possible to look so gorgeous, even in Adolin’s clothes.”

“It _is_ hard to believe,” Adolin took the cue to sit on Shallan’s other side. “Nobody should be allowed to fill trousers like—“

“Okay! Okay, that’s enough,” Kaladin took his seat beside Shallan. This bit was getting old. “Compliment received. Thank you.”

“Sorry,” Shallan placed her freehand on Kaladin’s leg, giving it a small squeeze. 

“And you don’t have to kiss me, of course. But if you wanted to, I do too.”

“Me too,” Adolin called from behind her. “Now please, I would like to make a heartfelt speech while we all hold our glasses in the air. Laia!” He called to the bartender, a stunningly beautiful woman with black curls and gold eyes who couldn’t have been much older than they were. 

“Do you want to cheers with us? I’m doing a toast.” Adolin described this event like the party of the year.

“Cheers with us, Laia!” Shallan shouted, blushing hard again. Storms, did she have a crush?

“I can’t spare the hour,” Laia laughed, a gentle sound that reminded Kaladin of boiling water.

“But, to all your health,” she indulged, holding up a mug of tea in their direction. Laia met Kaladin’s eyes for an extra second before turning to take an order. Though he couldn’t have said why this time was different, the look she gave him was strangely comforting. 

“All right now, this is a celebration,” Adolin announced, holding his auburn wine aloft. He waited dramatically for Shallan and Kaladin to follow suit, and Kaladin noticed with discomfort that they were gathering a small, tipsy audience.

“Today I discovered a joy that I didn’t even know was possible. I felt more myself, more alive, more excited and more... _more_ , than I have in a long time. It was better than the Thrill. It was even better than falling in love with you, Shallan, because we get to fall in love together now.”

Silence fell across the Tipsy Cousin, and Adolin looked bashfully around at the dozens of eyes trained on him. Always a showman, this one. 

And then he looked at Kaladin. Even in Adolin’s airy silks, Kaladin began to feel uncomfortably warm.

“My life belonged to you long before this moment, captain. You saved me once, and I can never repay you for that. But, starting today, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying.”

Shallan turned back to look at him, but Kaladin couldn’t manage to meet her gaze. His eyes were locked on Adolin’s, frozen in panic. He hadn’t felt so looked-at since demanding the king’s boon, and this moment filled him with just as much uncertainty and dread.

Adolin looked questioningly back at Kaladin, and his satisfied smile melted into regret as he read the expression there. 

“To Kaladin Stormblessed!” Adolin cried abruptly, shooting Kaladin an apologetic look as he drank.

“To Kaladin Stormblessed!” the room called back, throwing back their glasses as swiftly as they resumed their conversations.

Kaladin felt like he was going to pass out. 

******

“Oh storms, bridgeboy, I’m so sorry,” Adolin rushed to Kaladin’s side, so frustrated with himself he almost kicked over his own barstool. What a stupid thing to do! Kaladin had turned to the bar, slumping over his glass in an effort to appear smaller, and Adolin felt the inappropriate impulse to embrace him from behind, burying his face in that untameable mess of hair. 

Instead, he laid a gentle hand between Kaladin’s shoulder blades, just as Shallan silently reached for Adolin’s own elbow. 

“I’m sorry, Kaladin,” Adolin murmured again. 

In one decisive movement, Kaladin sat upright and swiveled to look at his two companions, regaining his composure with startling speed. He tucked back a lock of hair with one hand, cradling his wine in the other. 

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Kaladin admitted, pursing his lips. 

“Oh storms, Kaladin, I never meant to--” 

Adolin’s apology was interrupted by the warm pressure of Kaladin’s lips as he delivered a very intentional, very enjoyable kiss. Adolin really wasn’t sure what he was about to say anyway, and he definitely couldn’t remember now.

“The rest of your life?” Kaladin murmured, scarcely breaking from the kiss. 

The what? Oh right, he’d said that. 

“The rest of my life, bridgeboy,” Adolin replied, lightly bumping his head against Kaladin’s. Shallan’s fingers dug excitedly into his elbow. 

“Then I guess I’ll be protecting you for a long time, brightlord.” The sincerity of that promise burned in Adolin’s heart as their eyes locked once more. Beside them, Shallan sighed audibly, causing a tiny, bashful smile to cross Kaladin’s face. 

“I love love,” Shallan swooned, a nearly empty wine glass dangling precariously between her thumb and finger. When did she have time to drink all that? Laia’s gloved safehand plucked the glass from his betrothed’s fingers, placing the vessel back on the bar after topping it off. The Tipsy Cousin was a wonderful place to spend an evening, but it was easy to overdo it under Laia’s attentive service. 

Kaladin smiled again - storms, there was nothing better - as he leaned towards Shallan for a kiss of her own. A sense of utter disbelief struck Adolin as he watched them, not for the first time that day. This was real. This was happening. And they were all this happy about it. 

“To us,” Shallan smiled conspiratorially, retrieving her newly filled vessel. 

“To us,” Kaladin and Adolin responded in unison as they tapped their glasses together.

They did this several more times over the course of the evening. 


	2. Hey Bridgeboy

“I want chouta,” Shallan announced, sitting upright and searching the bar as if she could manifest snacks just by looking hard enough. When that didn’t work, she knocked her cheek into Kaladin’s shoulder, gazing plaintively up at him. 

“Kaladin, will you buy me chouta?”

Adolin giggled as Kaladin glanced down at her with mock disdain. 

“I already bought you chouta,” he scolded gently, in a way that reminded Adolin of his own mother. A small twinge of sadness appeared, unexpected but not unwelcome.

“That was hours ago, Kaladin!” Shallan wailed, appealing to the ceiling. “I need snacks in the present, not the past! Adolin,” Shallan redirected her wobbly gaze at him. “Tell Kaladin the previous chouta is not relevant in this discussion.”

“The previous chouta is not relevant in this discussion,” Adolin repeated to Kaladin with a barely-straight face, burying his smile in a swallow of wine. 

There was no warning or possible way to prepare Adolin for the look Kaladin gave him then. It was every single wonderful thing: fondness, attraction, amusement, understanding, hunger, delight. It made him feel both otherworldly strong and like he was melting in his core. 

“If you say so, princeling,” Kaladin murmured before leaning down to kiss Shallan’s forehead. Adolin felt the words reverberate in his chest, though there was no physical way for that to be the case. 

“Also, you have to carry me,” Shallan wagged a finger up at Kaladin as if haggling. “That’s my final offer. And not a chip more!”

******

Adolin burst out laughing at Shallan’s weird performance, a silly blushing guffaw. The two of them had been drinking at a significantly faster pace than Kaladin, thanks mostly to the tavern’s open-handed proprietress. At some point, Kaladin was properly introduced to Laia Telin, a half-Herdazian lighteyes who emanated mystery like a Radiant gave off Stormlight. She was on friendly terms with both Adolin and Shallan, and it was absolutely precious to watch Shallan redden every time Laia paid her the slightest attention. Kaladin wondered whether that type of attraction was a fact about Shallan that he knew already, though he supposed he hadn’t really known certain facts about himself until that very day. 

One of those particular, very handsome facts was paying off a much smaller tab than they should have had and tipping a much larger amount than that. Kaladin watched Adolin agonize over the math for a moment, then give up and throw down ruby broam for safety. Between him and the redhead dangling off his neck, these two were going to be a handful. 

“Come back soon,” Laia waved, giving Kaladin another of those curious smiles that looked like flirting but felt like something different. Kaladin occupied himself with hefting Shallan into his arms, letting Adolin say all of their goodbyes. 

Kaladin inhaled deeply as they stepped out into the brisk evening, the smell of dust, bodies and cooking food mixing with the closeness of Shallan’s perfume. Before Kaladin could take another step, Adolin’s face was pressed next to his, arms curling around his chest from behind. His wine-soaked breath came heavy and warm, and the drunk heat of his body radiated across Kaladin’s back.

“Hey bridgeboy,” Adolin slurred mildly, pausing to plant a kiss just above his collarbone, “let’s go get chouta.”

“CHOUTA!!!” Shallan cried, voice echoing down the road as she flailed limply in Kaladin’s arms. 

They were ridiculous. They were wonderful. And they loved him so much. 

So he took them to get chouta. 

**Author's Note:**

> A nearly-identical version of these chapters will be published under Messi's Hythica as a continuation of the story "Shall We," and if you want more of this, then it is very much there!


End file.
